Yum or numb: the art history of putting ice in drinks
Sherbet makers, Topkapı Palace Museum Library, Surnâme-i Hümayûn, H. 1344, f.238a
Ice in drinks is one of those modern cultural dividers that seems unassuming at first glance, but reveals generational, economical and social dynamics upon closer inspection. For a drinking tradition that is traceable to 4000 years ago, it surprisingly leaves very few pictorial representations for one to explore the transmission and trajectory across various cultures. Struck by the curious disconnect between literary sources and visual depictions, I began to examine the mercurial beast that is the (missing) art history of our favourite thirst-quenching habit nowadays (in some countries).
Who put ice in drinks in the first place? And how?
Yakhchal
The earliest reference of cold beverages goes back to the Mesopotamian and the Chinese between 1780-1600 BCE, who had ice houses built to retain ice and snow as a way to ‘refrigerate’ their drinks. Today, there are still archeological examples of ice houses in Iran and China, standing as a true testament to ancient engineering.
The oldest of such remains, named yakhchal, is datable to Achaemenid Persia (400 BCE). Of dome-shaped with an open hole at the top, a hollow interior with thick brick walls and a deep pit, yakhchal combines the extreme temperature contrast between the insulation of the structure and the icy weather outside after dark to freeze the underground water into ice overnight (Green 2023). Ice and snow were also harvested from nearby mountains and stored in these ice houses for dinners and banquets.
So what did they like drinking cold?
According to the “Summons of the Soul”, or “Zhao Hun”, the ancient Chinese poetry collection, aristocrats and court officials enjoyed ice-chilled rice wine for its heightened aroma and refreshing taste. In fact, a double-layered ice bucket attributable to the Warring States period was excavated in 1977 in HuBei Province as material evidence to this account. Made of bronze with an intricately decorated façade, the ice bucket is equipped with a small hollow area on the top, allowing either ice cubes or hot water to be put there to change the temperature of the beverage placed in the outer layer.
Stretching the cord of connectivity comes the ancient Egyptians and Persians. While the former liked to store water in a qulla (earthenware jug or bottle) to help purify it and keep it cool (Hogge 2022), the latter liked to use wine ewers with long narrow necks and small lips to potentially achieve the same effect. There is little known to the design principle of this kind of vessel but it could be related to three bearings— pouring etiquette, drinking ritual and temperature control.
Giovanni Mansueti, The Supper at Emmaus, Italy, Venice, c. 1493–1495, Sam Fogg London
Cold drinks vs ice in drinks
This Orientalist painting depicts a servant (on the right) pouring what we can assume as wine from a pitcher into a bulbous shaped ewer, which allowed guests and the host to fill their cups elegantly and slowly while engaging in conversations. In fact, back in pre-Islamic Persia, at the royal court of Persepolis, there was an important office of cup-bearer. They were the one to pour in the wine with neatness, present the goblet with three fingers, and offer it in such a way as to place it most conveniently in the grasp of the one who is to drink (Daryaee, 2022). This tradition carried itself into the Seljuq and Timurid Empire, with attendants and youth illustrated in epic Persian poems holding the ewer in one hand and the cup in another. These ewers were usually made of precious metals, luxury ceramics or glass, for their corrosion resistance and aesthetic appeal. As an art form, it aimed to exude taste and grace; as a utility item, it created a vacuumed environment to keep the wine fresher for longer and its aroma to linger.
That could also explain the drinking cups with a wide mouth in these miniature paintings. They allow the aroma of the wine to easily reach the drinker’s nose, which adds depth to the drinking experience; the flared rim of the cup also eases consumption without tilting one’s head back. All in all, we could attribute the absence of ice cubes in goblets to the upper class’ meticulous attention to good manners and taste-making. Yet, we cannot be sure if ice cubes were exclusive to the elites without tangible indications, like whether there were ice houses built for the public or commercially available ice cubes for juices and desserts for everyday local use.
(Left) Youth in European Dress and Young Woman with Indian Headdress, from a Shahnamah, Isfahan, Iran, Khalili Collection MSS 1000.1, MSS 1000.2 | (Right) A shaykh is offered wine from an illustrated Divan of Hafiz, Central Asia, Bukhara, 17th century, Khalili Collection, MSS 778, folio 103a
Professor Daniel Newman, who runs the very interesting Instagram account “Medieval Arab Cooking”, is an Arab food historian. He parlayed his social media content into two fascinating books: ‘The Exile’s Cookbook’ and ‘The Sultan’s Feast’. Among all the recipes he translated and recreated, there are at least five summer concoctions that are best served with crushed ice, such as oxymel drink سكنجبين , tamarind syrup drink, lemon-quince drink شراب ليمون سفرجلي, citron drink شراب الأترنج and Syrian pomelo drink.
Besides, sherbet — the iced fruit drink originated from Persia and spread across the Middle East, India and the rest of the world — has been a summer staple since the 12th century. In fact, the miniature painting of sherbet makers (the cover of this article) corroborates the popularity of the beverage in the Ottoman court. In the painting, a block of white substance is placed in the maker’s workstation, which is likely to be a block of ice based on the sherbet recipe.
A mosaic illustrating slaves serving wine from amphorae (Dougga, 3rd c. CE), Wikipedia
In the West, Emperor Nero in the first century CE allegedly learned to boil water and snow in order to clear it of microbes. He then packed the water in a jar before chilling it, which became a stimulating beverage after. However, not everyone shared the same enthusiasm for the invention, such as the Stoic philosopher Seneca, who complained about the ‘ice fever’ of dropping lumps of snow in one’s cup in his work Naturales Quaestiones (Hogge 2022). Take a look at this mosaic depicting a wine serving scene from the 3rd century. The liquid containers shown here are called amphora, a two-handled storage jar for oil, wine, milk, or grain in ancient Greece and the Roman Empire (Bond 2016). Reminiscent to a qulla, they probably boasted a cooling effect to the liquid contained within.
Backgammon board, Iran, 1800–1900, V&A museum, W.66–1928
Translucent wine containers emerged
So far, we have not seen an apparent example of putting ice cubes or snow in drinks. Not until the 19th century can we find painted scenes with visible drinking content in transparent vessels. It is also when the drinking preference became divergent in different geographical locations. For example, on the two sides of this foldable Iranian backgammon board from the 19th-20th century find two types of wine containers and a drinking cup. The one which the male figure held in his left hand has a tall narrow neck and a round body; whereas the two on the serving platform on the other side of the board have an almost cylindrical body, a short neck and a wide flat lip. It is difficult to see clearly the details inside the containers, but it is obvious that there are more to just the red-coloured liquid that is so often the case in Western paintings, especially the Dutch Still Life and French modernist between the 17th and 19th centuries.
(Left) Mirror Case with Fitted Shutter, Iran, 19th century, Khalili Collection, LAQ 43 | (Right) Painting, couple in European dress at table, opaque watercolour and gold on paper, Mughal, 18th century. V&A D.354–1908
(Left) Osias Beert, Dishes with Oysters, Fruit, and Wine, c.1620/1625 | (Right) Jean Béraud, La Lettre, 1908
The beginning of ice trade
What also happened in the 19th century was the commercialisation of ice for everyday use by the American businessman Frederic Tudor. He had the vision to harvest ice from Massachusetts lakes and ship it to the tropics, first to scientists and physicians who saw the potential for food preservation and medical application, then to cafes and wealthy private households for free to loll them into the appeal of chilled drinks.
After people tried their drinks cold, they could “never be presented with them warm again,” Tudor wrote. (Mitenbuler, 2013)
The growing demand for ice soon turned the natural resource into a hugely profitable commodity. Along with technological innovation, the cost of manufacturing, storing and transporting ice was drastically reduced, making it more accessible to people in further parts of the world. Perhaps the best image to encapsulate the modern appreciation of ice is Robert Mapplethorpe’s Gorham 1871 polar ice bucket and harpoon shaped spoon in the Getty Museum. The photograph centres the elaborate silver ice bucket (filled with ice) and spoon against a black background, as if immortalising the thousand-year-old luxury item in all its glory.
Robert Mapplethorpe, Gorham 1871 polar ice bucket and harpoon shaped spoon, 1987
Now that I have attempted to construct the missing art history of iced drinks, there’s still a mystery that remains unsolved: why is it so frowned upon in some cultures? The most direct explanation could be the weather. According to the articles written by Henry Jeffreys for the Guardian and Lisa Bramen for the Smithsonian Magazine, it seems unnecessary for people living in countries such as the UK and Russia, to put ice in their drinks. However, as global warming continues to redefine the climate, the reluctance may speak a different truth.
So, if not the weather, is it health related?
Some people maintain their scepticism towards artificial ice cubes, arguing the potential harm they could bring to the drinkers. As a matter of fact, the Chinese do believe that iced drinks offset the energy balance in your body, which might increase the chance of sickness or mild discomfort. Yet, not everyone follows the TCM theory, especially outside of China; and not everyone relies on industrial ice cubes, especially when most refrigerators are equipped with the ice-making capability.
If not health related, is it the taste?
While in some cases ice cubes do water down the drinks and wash away some of the taste, in many cases they are actually an integral part of the drinking experience. For instance, ice carving is considered an art form in the Japanese bartending world. Having an intricately carved ice block in your cocktail is almost as important as the quality of the liquor itself - both pleasing to the eyes and the taste buds. Not to mention cocktails are enjoyed all year round, from scorching summer to spine-chilling winter. On the other hand, a lot of distilled beverages such as shōchū, whiskey and the like are also served with cubes to release the aroma and appeal to a larger crowd.
Taste simultaneously reflects class and social status too. The duality was seen in the Victorian era as well as today, in wine and coffee consumption respectively. As mentioned above, ice was imported as a luxury item in England by the late 19th century, catering to the monarch and the upper class for their desire to be fashionable and trend-setters. However, It was criticised by wine connoisseurs as a “barbarous time”, for people to drink their claret chilled and put ice cubes in their champagne (Jeffreys, 2015). For one reason or another, the trend didn’t take off.
Iced coffee, conversely, charts a different course. It allegedly came into existence from experimenting materials available at hand between the 17th to 19th century in Europe (Cabral, 2023). Gained its momentum merely 10 years ago, iced coffee offers less bitterness and acidity, as well as more flavour variations. According to a recent research conducted by Civic Science, a consumer analytics platform, 28% of their respondents (American) prefer their coffee iced instead of hot; whereas a recent survey conducted by Statista shows that only 9% of their respondents (British) prefer iced coffee. Yet, things are starting to change as Gen Z drives the “fourth wave” of coffee consumption, which revolves around new categories like iced coffee, frozen blended coffee (such as frappuccino) and canned coffee that boast unmatched flavour profiles and ready-to-go accessibility (Fromm, 2023).
If not the taste, is it the cost?
If you compare the price from the Ice Co. in the UK and Reddy Ice in the US, the cost per kg is twice as much in Britain as imported goods. George Reynolds’ long article in the Guardian also sheds some light on the difficulty to market the product on this side of the Atlantic Ocean. From ever-changing consumer taste to low receptivity towards cubes in alcoholic beverages, brands have to be creative about their partnership strategies and advertising efforts in order to get the allure of ice cubes across the population that is largely uninterested in the extra icing on their cakes. Or in this case, in their drinks.
If not the cost, is it pride?
You tell me.
